


A Christmas wish

by itsminimes



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: A Texas cowboy Christmas story, Alternative points of view, M/M, alternative universe, silly Christmas romance fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28794144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsminimes/pseuds/itsminimes
Summary: Eliot Waugh is a New York doctor that somehow ended up spending the holidays in Texas. He helps rescue a cowboy - Quentin Coldwater - and finds himself more and more attracted to him. Two very different people find themselves snowed in for a day and romance is in the air. But can they let go of their preconceived opinions and insecurities and give themselves a chance? Read to find the very unexpected (lol) answer.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	A Christmas wish

“Quentin! Quentin! Can you hear me?”

The voice was unrecognizable but the name was familiar. Quentin… Quentin was his name!

“Quentin!”

Why was the stranger calling him? He was warm and cozy wrapped up into this fluffy cloud of confusion. Maybe he should make and effort and wake up to see what this was all about!

And Quentin did strain to shake off the thick clouds around him. And he was repaid with instant, red glowing pain. He tried to open his eyes and through his eyelashes he saw the sympathetic face of a beautiful stranger. Then the memory came back and his eyes filled with tears.

“Alice! Is Alice alright?” His voice sounded raspy and broken even to himself.

“Who is Alice? Was anybody with him?” the stranger asked.

“Don’t worry, doc!” a voice that he immediately identified as his friend’s, Josh, answered. “Alice is just a horse. He seems to have jumped into the frozen lake trying to save her.”

“Alice…” Quentin’s heart was desperately beating against his ribs, like a bird in a small cage.

“Is the horse OK? Tell him!” insisted the stranger. Doc. Doctor?

“Yes, she is unharmed. Just wet and spooked by the incident. I took care of her. I covered her with a blanket and I took her to back to ranch where Penny looked after her.”

Quentin knew that Penny was an asshole, but he was hard working and he was good with horses. Alice was in good hands. He felt relief.

Josh appeared into his line of vision, above the bed.

“Q, if I didn’t see the horse alone in the middle of the road, I wouldn’t have known that something happened to you!” He turned to the stranger. “I recognized her right away - American Quarter Horses aren’t very common here. And Alice did a total Lassie–Tommy-fell-into-the-well number!” Josh laughed a little, his eyes sparkling behind his round glasses. “She led me to where Q was laying unconscious on the lake shore. She is a smart horse!”

“Quentin, your horse is alright. Don’t worry. Now that you are conscious, I am doctor Eliot Waugh and you are in my lake house. Josh brought you here because it was the closest house to where you were found and you needed to be warmed up immediately. You passed out from hypothermia and what seems to be a concussion. We dealt with the hypothermia and your body temperature is getting back to normal but your right shoulder is dislocated too. I can set it back in place and it will get better. I can do this here, unless you prefer to go to a hospital.”

“No hospital!” His last memories of hospitals were too painful to deal with. Seeing his father deteriorate more and more, in spite of the treatment, was still too fresh in his memory.

“Ok. This will hurt, but it will be a short pain. Brace yourself. But after that it will get easier.”

Quentin looked into the deep hazel eyes of the doctor and felt like he could trust him.

“Do it!”

The blaring pain in his shoulder sent him back into the darkness again. Which was a relief.

“Quentin!”

The beautiful doctor was calling for him again. Quentin felt embarrassed for fainting. He felt his blood rush to his cheeks.

“Sorry, doctor!” he mumbled.

“Call me Eliot. How many fingers do you see?”

Eliot held two fingers in front of face. Two long, elegant fingers.

“Two.”

Quentin rubbed his eyes and looked around. The room he was in was very elegant, with a tall ceiling with dark wooden beams, white walls, modern and cozy furniture, a soft accent carpet on a wooden floor, minimalistic but tasteful decoration, all earth colors. Definitely more luxurious than he was used to. He knew well the elegant mid-century modern lake houses from afar but he had never been inside one before. He felt acutely like he didn’t belong in this place that looked like an architectural magazine cover.

“Where’s Josh?” he had to ask.

“Josh told me to tell he had to leave. He had the whole extended family over for the holidays and was needed back home.”

“I need to go home too.” He said softly. He would be OK back at the ranch. He probably would.

“Quentin, you need somebody to check if the concussion gives you problems. If there is any sign of neurological problems I really have to advise you to go to a hospital right away. Do you have someone to check on you at least for tonight?” and Eliot looked away. Through the big window Quentin saw that it had started snowing heavily.

Quentin thought swiftly of Penny but he abandoned the thought immediately. Lately Penny was spending most nights with his girlfriend, Kady. “I will be ok by myself.”

“Or you can stay here. There’s no imposition. I don’t mind a guest. As a doctor I’d advise that.” Eliot’s eyes scrutinized him with a feline glint and Quentin was just too tired to think to resist. He was in God’s hands. Or, more precisely, in doctor Eliot’s competent hands.

“Thank you.” Maybe he was where he was supposed to be. He couldn’t gather his thoughts to think of another option.

“I brought you tea. It will warm you up.” Quentin thought for a moment that a shot of whisky would warm him up better but… doctor knows best!

He sat up and brought the green cup to his lips and first he inhaled deeply. The aromatic vapors comforted him. He felt so sore and exhausted, like he came home from a horrible battle that left him beaten and defeated.

“Now, let’s see. Do you have blurred vision? Do you experience nausea?” Eliot was all professional again.

“No, I am alright. Just really sleepy.”

“Then rest, Quentin, you seem to really need it. I will check up on you again.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Eliot looked at the young man sleeping in his second guest room bed. He seemed small, wrapped into the thick blankets he used to help his body get back to normal temperature. His face was half covered by his long hair. He couldn’t resist and leaned over him and tucked his hair behind his ear. Quentin’s long dark eyelashes quivered but he didn’t wake up. The dark circles under his eyes showed that the boy needed sleep and had been needing it for a while now. The “boy”… Eliot sighed as he sat on the armchair by the bed. He was not a boy at all. When Josh, the administrator of the lake house he had bought on a whim 3 months ago, rushed to his doorway and called him to see the unconscious man on the lake shore, he didn’t know what to expect, but of course he ran to help him. His first fleeting impression had been that he was looking at a beautiful young man frozen by an evil spell that could only be overturned by a kiss. But they had no time for fairy tales. They rushed to take the unconscious but still breathing Quentin to the house. They had to and cut and peel off his wet clothes and the procedure revealed a tight, compact body with a beautifully chiseled torso and muscular arms and wide shoulders. Hard ranch work definitely helped shape the young man up. It wasn’t exactly his professional eye that detected the loveliness… and Eliot felt a bit of shame. But he was just looking and he definitely wasn’t going to go there! He had proceeded with competence and utmost medical care. He had put Quentin on the bed in the second guest room with Josh’s help and covered him in thermal blankets, trying to warm his body back to normal temperature. And it worked. Quentin was sturdy and resilient and his body recovered. Maybe these cowboys he generally considered a bit uncouth and dirty, weren’t to be dismissed so easily after all… Eliot looked at the clean and neatly brushed cowboy hat that belonged to Quentin. Josh had brought it and now it looked lonely in his wall hanger - so very rural! It was found near the place where Quentin had jumped into the semi-frozen lake water to save his horse. That was such a sweet story. _Boy risks his life to save beloved horse_. But it was also immensely stupid. Quentin was alone and it was almost night time. The weather this December was unusually cold for this area. He could have died of exposure and he wouldn’t have been discovered for hours, or maybe days. It was lucky that Josh was passing by in his beat up truck and spotted the horse just in time. _Horse leads rescuers to half-frozen boy._ Definitely a Christmas story! If you choose to believe this kind of stuff. But Eliot was a rational man. Quentin was lucky Josh was a smart and practical guy. He quickly enlisted the help of Eliot and they brought him to Eliot’s vacation house. How he ended up alone in Texas, in December, in a house by the lake, that was a different story. If he only had been more careful with the whole Mike affair… If only he had listened to Margo who realized at first glance what kind of character Mike had. But he was sexy, he was fun and he seemed to be very much into Eliot… Eliot had been so blinded, he had asked Mike to move in with him. They never exchanged the big words, but they had an implied understanding. He had been so happy with his new live-in boyfriend until he caught him with a rando in his own bed. And now he was stuck here for the holidays the in house that he had picked with Mike from a real estate brochure back in the days when he thought spending Christmas together in an idyllic lake cabin was a good idea. But he really needed to get away from his apartment to clear his head anyway, so here he was. Margo was still in New York, doing her workaholic act for the end of the year, but she had promised to join him at some point. When? To be determined. That would turn his holiday around. But Margo could be a wild card sometimes too…

For now, being here hadn’t been too bad. Daily walks by the lake had filled his lungs with crisp clean air and some sort of environmental optimism that he almost didn’t need to return to his fancy brandy stock. Almost. He went to the closest dinner to chat the charming old lady who owned it and who was responsible for the best pancakes of his entire life. He was on a first name basis with Brandon, the delivery guy from the local store. He even made friends with a couple of squirrels. Now he was taking in cute strays. Did his small heart grow three sizes that week? – he laughed at himself. No. But maybe it was warming up. He thought about what was waiting for him back in New York – the remainders of his failed attempt to have an adult relationship, as opposed to his usual, very immature and completely casual hookups, his practice that he had been so proud of but which had somehow turned into a place where his most common activity was writing prescriptions for drugs for reality tv wannabe stars. He frowned at the thought.

Quentin stirred in the bed. He took his left arm, the good one, out of the blanket but kept sleeping. The right arm with the dislocated shoulder was immobilized to his chest. Eliot’s eyes observed the nicely shaped muscles, the lightly tan skin (but still tan in winter!) and the dense dark hairs on Quentin’s forearm and the big hand with long strong fingers. Not a boy. A man! An attractive one to boot. Eliot looked at Quentin’s sleep-relaxed face. The bushy eyebrows above what he remembered as slightly downturned puppy brown eyes, a strong nose and a sensual cupid’s bow shaped mouth, a cut jawline – it all somehow made up for the sweetest face he had ever seen. Margo would laugh so hard seeing him fawn over a cowboy! One that had fallen into his lap for the holidays! Maybe Santa has actually read his letter. The one he send years ago, as a pimply teenager who had just discovered he was into men as much as he was into his books about the wild west and its cowboys…

Anyway, Eliot reminded himself, he was an actual doctor, to this poor boy’s good luck. Better act professional and not take the fantasy too far from reality. He took Quentin’s warm hand into his to check his heart rate. All normal now. When they brought him in, his pulse was so weak, he had to use his antique manual blood pressure monitor, with a stethoscope, to detect his heart rate. It was a gift from his father – he had taught him how to use it since he was 12 and he carried it with him anywhere he went.

Quentin stirred again in the bed. This time he opened his eyes.

“Good morning, Quentin! How are you feeling?”

“I’m good. The shoulder pain isn’t bad. It’s still lingering there, but it’s bearable. Thank you, doctor!” The voice was soft and warm. The puppy eyes beamed at him with genuine gratitude. Eliot felt touched.

“Call me Eliot. You are not a patient. I just happened to be the closest help available.”

“Eliot, I don’t even know how to thank you…”

“You don’t have to. I was just getting bored being by myself in this big house and I wanted to help. You will be alright. You were lucky Josh found in time. What really happened, do you remember?”

“I took Alice for a ride. I knew the snow storm was coming and I wanted to take her out for a ride before the weather made that impossible. We were coming back to the ranch and I was walking beside her when gun noises from some hunters spooked her and she started running towards the lake. She must have slipped on ice and she slid into the deep freezing water. I had to get her out as soon as possible but the shore was abrupt there. I tried to get her to a safer area and pulled her reins with all my force to steer her in the right direction until the pain struck me. I don’t even remember how I got out of the water. She must have climbed up to the road by herself.”

“Luckily your friend Josh saw Alice by herself and he went out to look for you. He and I took you to the house to warm you up. Hypothermia is so dangerous.”

“Thank you so much. I owe you two a life debt.” And his voice sounded so earnest, Eliot didn’t even know how to respond. So he just smiled.

Quentin took his legs out from under the blanket and made himself sit on the side of the bed. His head hung down and his long hair fell over his face. Eliot could only think that he was still naked under that blanket and he really shouldn’t let his mind go there.

“Where are my clothes?” Great minds…

“I am afraid they had been destroyed. We had to cut them off because they were wet and you needed to warm up quickly. Also, your leather boots are water damaged. Anyway, I will bring you some pajama pants and a robe you can put over your arm. Josh said he would come over today and he will bring you some clothes.” And that was a pity. Eliot had a quick vision of Quentin wearing only his cowboy hat, but he quickly extinguished the thought. Josh was running late but looking out the window and seeing how much snow has set over night, it made sense. But he couldn’t let Quentin in a vulnerable position like this.

“I’ll be back.”

Eliot got up and went to find some pajama pants. He was not prepared for this, but he would improvise. He would give him one of his pairs, even if they would be long for him. The robe was no problem.

He chose a pair of silk pajama pants with thin blue stripes and a robe to match. He returned to find Quentin in the same position as he left him, staring pensively at the window. The snow didn’t seem to let up.

“I brought these for you. Do you need help with them?” he had to offer.

“No. Thank you, Eliot.” Quentin awkwardly pulled up the pants up using just his left hand. Eliot kneeled and cuffed the trousers legs for him with gentle moves, smoothing the soft fabric as he did so. He couldn’t resist touching the lightly hairy ankles, which seemed like a very intimate gesture.

“Quentin, I am glad I could help you. Now let me make you another tea. And you need some food too.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Quentin looked at the doctor go. Tall, slim but nicely shaped, elegant. Not doctor, he reminded himself. Eliot. A beautiful brunet with an aristocratic face but warm hazel eyes. He felt a bit weird wearing Eliot’s fine pajamas and robe. The borrowed clothes smelled so good, Quentin breathed in deeply the superb scent - a mix of refined perfume, expensive tobacco and probably something all Eliot. It felt heady and he wanted more than anything to be worthy of that smell. But he was just a country cowboy, currently unwashed by anything other than cold river water and the disinfectants used on his scrapes. Somebody refined and cultured, a DOCTOR like Eliot, wouldn’t look at him twice if he wasn’t in a professional context.

He remembered Eliot’s gentle touch, when he checked his pulse and when he cuffed his trousers. Quentin was so touch-starved that even these superficial touches had sent shivers down his spine. It didn’t hurt that Eliot was tall, dark and gorgeous in a way that went straight to Quentin’s little heart. It had been so long since he had felt another’s touch. Spiraling into depression and insomnia didn’t exactly help him with his dating life. Now he was more in control, but he felt like something inside him had changed forever.

He remembered Penny smirking and telling him he would never be a man when he saw him crying when they watched a superhero movie together. The crying thing had become a nuisance for a while after his father died. He used to be able to control himself better, but somehow all the trauma with losing his father had left him raw, like an exposed nerve, defenseless. But Penny was an asshole. Quentin _was_ a man. He was hard working and he tried to be the best worker on the ranch. He only abandoned his duties as a cowboy when he had to take care of his ailing father. Even then, going to the stables and just being there with the horses had been a great comfort. Alice was his special horse. Alice was a beautiful white American Quarter horse, fast and elegant, sensitive and sweet. She had never been fit for ranch work, she was better than that and she knew it, but Quentin had won her over with his gentleness and persistence. Realizing that she could be bribed with golden delicious apples had been a big help too… So they became friends, partners. She held a special place in Quentin’s heart and he remembered the dread he felt when he saw her in distress. He couldn’t lose her too. Now he could only feel relief knowing that she was ok after the frozen lake accident.

“I made you another cup of herbal tea. I hope you like it. You need to hydrate yourself. I think it’s best to stay away from caffeine for now.” Eliot’s voice interrupted his usual trainwreck of thoughts.

“Thank you. I love tea.”

“Even if you don’t feel like having breakfast right now, I made some cucumber sandwiches. Try to eat them. They are light and go well with the tea.” Eliot brought a bamboo serving tray and Quentin felt embarrassed again.

“I don’t have to eat in bed. If not for the lingering pain in the shoulder, I am feeling OK. Probably more rested than I felt in days. Maybe we could move to the kitchen.” He suggested in a small voice.

“Sure, if you feel more comfortable like that. Let me bring you some slippers.”

Eliot brought him some warm fuzzy slippers and putting them on his bare feet felt oddly intimate to Quentin. They moved to the kitchen and dining area. It was a beautiful, airy kitchen, with white cabinets and black quartz countertops and it looked modern but very welcoming. They sat at the dining table. The sandwiches were delicious. A smooth cheese cream and cucumbers and dill on fresh bread – they melted in his mouth. Of course someone like Eliot would prepare something so delicate but fancy. If they had breakfast at ranch, Quentin would have made scrambled eggs with sausages and pancakes for dessert. Hee-haw! Not that Quentin imagined that at some point in the future Eliot and he would have reasons to have breakfast at the ranch. That was wishful thinking of the worst kind.

“So… I don’t think Josh is coming too soon with this snow. Why don’t you tell me more about yourself.”

“There isn’t much to tell. I own a ranch 10 miles west from town. We used to be in the cattle business. That was when my father was younger and stronger. But times have changed, the business has changed and we got out of the grain business and downsized the cattle operation. Switching to an organic farming system and free range was the next logical step but then my father got sick.” Quentin closed his eyes for a moment and tried to control his voice. “Cancer killed him little by little.” He dared to look up and saw only understanding in Eliot’s eyes. But he had to move past this. “We sold everything except for the ranch and the horse stables. Now we have riding classes. We offer full care and pasture boarding for horses. And we’re thinking of starting a program of equine assisted therapy.” Because Quentin knew firsthand how much being near the horses helped him keep it together when life was tearing him apart.

“We?” Eliot’s eyes were intent on him.

“Penny and I. He is a distant cousin I didn’t even know I had till 3 years ago. He turned out one day at the ranch looking for my father and somehow never left. We work together at the ranch. He actually has experience with horse therapy. He is very good with the horses. And with children. But he is not a very sociable guy otherwise.” Off –duty Penny could be a cold-hearted asshole. Quentin had trouble understanding how could someone who seemed to enjoy being gratuitously mean to him (and not only), especially when drunk, could be so gentle and understanding with kids, especially special needs ones. He could tell there was a story here, but so far Penny didn’t share it with him. He had probably only told it to his father whom he respected and trusted a lot. And his father had kept his secret.

“Quentin, you’re doing something good, something worthwhile and you’re putting your whole heart in it. That’s all that matters.” Eliot was so easy to talk to. He was probably oversharing by normal social standards but with Eliot he didn’t feel judged. On the contrary. Quentin basked in his understanding and approval.

“Horses are amazing. They are such gentle and empathetic creatures, they seem to be magical. When I feel down, I always go to the stables and spend time with them, grooming them, brushing their manes, tending to them. Communicating with them. Don’t laugh, all good horse handlers communicate with their horses! Being with them just makes me feel better.”

“There is nothing to laugh about here. I am in fact a little envious.”

“Then I am inviting you to come to my ranch and meet the horses. You will love them. Especially Alice. She’s a princess!” Eliot laughed but he had a dreamy look in his eyes.

“But enough about me and my horse dominated life. Tell me more about you, Eliot.”

“I am a GP in New York. I have a couple of semi-famous patients. I love the city life but sometimes all the glitz and glitter feels too vacuous. Especially around the holidays.” The pretty hazel eyes dimmed their light for a moment and Quentin sensed that Eliot wasn’t so comfortable opening up.

“How did you end up in Texas for Christmas?” Quentin couldn’t resist asking.

“I guess I was running away. Thinking that changing the scenery would mean changing the mindset. And it did work. Everything is beautiful and clean and simple here. I wake up every morning to the amazing view of the lake and the forest around it. The atmosphere here is so peaceful and quiet. Now with this snow storm it all turned into the fabled winter wonderland. I feel like I have landed in a Christmas postcard. I wish I could feel more like a Christmas postcard… I guess it’s a silly yearning I get at the end of the year. Wanting to feel the joy the holiday commercials advertise. Like it’s a real thing…” and Eliot laughed but he wasn’t amused.

“To me Christmas was about decorating the tree while my father made cinnamon apple pie with raisins. I can still smell it when I think about it.” Quentin said and shrugged like it didn’t matter.

“I can make you a mean apple pie from scratch. It’s no biggie.” said Eliot with a soft voice and his hand touched his shoulder gently. Quentin felt like crying. He looked into Eliot’s eyes and he saw something there, something he recognized as a twin to a this fire that was spreading in his chest, warming him from the inside. He leaned his head against Eliot’s hand and he soaked up the comfort for a second. He felt like somebody was really seeing him, really listening to him, for the first time since he lost his father. Eliot’s eyes were deep like the lake. With a small sigh, Eliot took his hand off his shoulder and turned to the big scenic window. 

“I will have to check if I have all the ingredients. I am not sure it’s safe to drive back in town until they clear the roads.”

And Eliot talked about learning to bake from a chef he had once dated and about pies he had when he made trips to exotic (to Quentin who never made it outside Texas) destinations where he had all kinds of adventures. Quentin listened to his melodic voice enraptured. Eliot was well traveled and he had the gift of story-telling. He made him laugh out loud with his ironic and self-ironic observations. Eliot made big gestures with his hands a lot and those hands touched him more than once and that made Quentin feel happy and light like he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Josh called and excused himself for not being able to keep his word to come by because the accumulated snow made driving there impossible and Quentin was suddenly grateful for the snow storm.

They cooked dinner together. Well, Eliot cooked and Quentin offered one-hand assistance since his shoulder still bothered him. They had grilled chicken, parmesan potato wedges and a light salad. Everything was finger-licking good and talking about finger-licking Quentin did entertain for a moment the fantasy of sucking on Eliot’s fingers and licking them clean for a change… Eliot opened a bottle of wine and they laughed and talked and shared crazy ideas. It turned out they both had in common a supreme love for fantasy novels and sea salt caramel ice cream.

They moved to the living room and they sat on the sofa by the fireplace. Eliot brought a blanket and they had to get so close to fit underneath it, they were practically cuddling. And Quentin wanted nothing more than to be snowed in with Eliot forever.

“Do you have anything planned for Christmas?” He asked, feeling confident that Eliot would accept his invitation to spend Christmas with him.

“I am actually expecting company.” Something on Eliot’s face glowed happy and Quentin felt his heart shrink painfully. Of course Eliot was expecting someone. Somebody nice, successful and damn good looking like Eliot had no reason to be alone for the holidays. Somebody like Eliot wouldn’t need the likes of Quentin. This was something he already knew and accepted in his heart. Obviously what he had read as interest from Eliot was nothing but wishful thinking. Projecting his own feelings onto the object of his foolish desires.

“Margo is my best friend. My soul mate, if I would believe in such a thing. She’s flying in from New York but there are delays because of the weather. She’s a fashion editor with the Hipbone. You will like her, she’s awesome.”

Quentin felt relieved, but not completely. The fact that Eliot deemed him worthy of meeting his best friend meant a lot. But a hotshot fashion magazine editor was hard to impress when you were a sad cowboy from Texas. 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

They talked and talked and shared stories from their youth. Quentin told him about growing up on the ranch and his fascination with horses. He could get very enthusiastic and he talked with his hands a lot. When he smiled, his eyes lit up and he made dimples that were just too adorable for Eliot to resist and he always smiled back. This beautiful boy disarmed him like no other. So he found himself sharing things that were important to him. He told him about his passion for medicine that came to be from wanting to be just like his distant father who was a famous surgeon. He told him about meeting Margo at a bad time in his life and how she saved him. Then he moved to stories from his crazy medschool years to lighten the mood. Quentin listened and laughed at his funny stories and held his hand at his sad ones. Close together under the comforter, talking softly to each other in the light of the fireplace, they felt as close and two human beings can ever be. Like they knew each other since forever. They were happy in their own small universe, but Eliot knew it was borrowed time. By 4 PM they heard the snow plugs on the road, like heralds of impending doom. Josh called and announced he was going to pick up Quentin in a couple of hours. Eliot was having a wonderful day and he didn’t want it to end. Being with Quentin had been like nothing else he had experienced in his adult life. Eliot had never met someone so guileless before. Quentin was so genuine and so damn earnest Eliot felt humbled. How could someone who trusted people so easily survive in a world so full of deceit – it was a thing of wonder. Eliot, a man with so many social defenses that he had honed to perfection and turned into an art he was proud of, was in awe. Quentin was such an open book and he could read each of his emotions so well, that he felt unworthy. But he was not. Quentin chose to open up to him. He chose him. Eliot knew when he was wanted and he had no doubt Quentin wanted him badly. But it was more than that. There was an extraordinary connection between them, an understanding beyond the words spoken or read in each other’s eyes. It was unprecedented for Eliot to catch feelings so quick, it was almost dizzying. Was it a rebound thing? No, it felt too different. Simply put, with Quentin Eliot felt like he was home.

When Josh came, Eliot didn’t feel ready to let Quentin go, which was the silliest feeling possible. Even if he liked having him with him, wearing his bed clothes, sharing a comforter together, real life was bigger than this. Bigger than his wishes. He even felt a little hurt seeing Quentin dressed up and ready to leave, thanking Josh sincerely. Saying a socially acceptable good bye was suddenly a little heart-wrenching. Josh went out to start the truck and they remained face to face, in front of the door, hesitating to part.

Quentin was looking down, not knowing what to say. So Eliot took the initiative. He took Quentin’s hand into his and held it. Quentin lifted his gaze and his big brown eyes were filled with unspoken desire. He had such long and pretty eyelashes, Eliot wanted to kiss them. He leaned towards him and like in slow motion he saw Quentin lifting his head and closing his eyes…

“Q, I…” and his mouth felt dry and the words wouldn’t come out. He inhaled deeply, straightened his posture and continued: “I hope we see each other again before Christmas.” Even to his own ears his voice sounded fake, alien. Quentin opened his eyes, smiled wanly and extracted his hand from his.

“Sure, Eliot. If you want to.” But the light in his eyes was gone.

Things were not lost, he would get another chance, Eliot encouraged himself amidst a sea of regret at the kiss that didn’t happen and his own inability to communicate his true feelings.

The house seemed so empty and cold when he turned back from the door. In the guest room, the bed was perfectly made, like there had never been the sweetest boy sleeping there and Eliot felt his heart ache. The only remainder of Quentin were the pajama pants and robe that he wore, folded neatly on a chair. Because he was an emotionally mature man, Eliot resisted the stupid urge to hold them, but he also decided to delay putting them in the hamper. As he left the room, Eliot saw that Quentin had forgotten his cowboy hat. YES! A reason to come back! And the answer to his secret fantasies from his teenage years.

Maybe falling so badly for someone he just met was crazy. But he was going to give crazy a chance because sometimes crazy was the only way to go if you wanted to be happy. He would bake an apple pie and ask Quentin to go steady. He would buy him flowers, make him a mixed tape and blow him in the back seat of his car if that was what it took to get him to say yes. And he would get his kiss at last.

And Eliot thought that maybe he needed to cool off a bit. Outside it had started to snow again, but softly this time. Eliot decided to go out to take some fresh air and, hopefully, clear his head.

The snow made the evening brighter but the lake was a dark entity without visible end. The dock was postcard pretty during the day, but now it looked slippery and it led to the middle of the darkness. Eliot shivered. What was he doing there? What was he doing in Texas? Pursuing the chance of a holiday romance with a brown eyed boy whose smile hung the moon in the sky for him after just one day together? Quentin was beautiful, Quentin was sweet, but how did this fit in the frame of his life? Would he throw away the life that he had built for a chance that fate might have thrown his way? What really waited for him back in New York? Was he happy there? Could he be happy here? Eliot felt like nothing made sense but in all the confusion Eliot could still see the star of hope shining bright.

“This sweet boy will be my undoing.” He heard himself saying loudly. But it was not an unhappy thought.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Eliot’s heart skipped a beat when he heard the doorbell ringing. Quentin. It had to be him. He was not going to leave things unsaid this time because seeing that defeated look in Quentin’s eyes was not an option. He rushed to the door and opened it.

“I was just thinking about you”

“And me about you, El!” and Margo jumped into his arms.

Eliot hugged her and lifted her up and spun her in the air a couple of times, just as they were, in the doorway. He was so happy to have this fireball of a girl with him! Margo was wearing a stylish grey winter coat that showed off her perfect figure and a designer silk scarf. She felt warm and she smelled like one of her expensive and exclusive perfumes. He kissed her brow fondly.

“How did you find this place? Why didn’t you call?”

“Josh brought me here. I wanted to surprise you.” And indeed, the providential Josh was behind her, in the driveway, smiling big at them.

“Hi, Josh! Thank you for bringing her to me!”

“No problem, Eliot. We met at the post office where she was asking for directions to the lake house. When she said your name, I jumped in to help her!” Josh’s voice was at his most enthusiastic.

“Josh has been very nice and he drove me here when my rental car broke down in the middle of the town. He entertained me with the story of the rescue he did or you did together. Were you planning on keeping secrets from me, El?” she raised a tiny, accusatory index finger at him.

“Of course not, Bamby! It’s just that some things are not fit for phone conversations. It’s a long story. I was waiting to tell you in person.” He took her little hand in his and kissed each of the fingernails, perfectly polished in dark red polish.

“I’ll be on my way then. It’s been very nice meeting you, Margo! Let me know if you need anything! Bye, Eliot!” and Josh went on his way with a little spring in his step – the Margo effect, as Eliot recognized it.

“Come and let me get you settled in your room. Tonight I will make you a nice creamy Tuscan chicken and I have an apple pie already in the oven. And I’ll make you your favorite cocktail. It’s been so boring to drink by myself.”

“Oh, and who were you trying to impress with your baking skills?”

“Nobody.” Then he felt bad and retracted. “Someone that might pop by. It’s a long story.”

“Another long story or the same one?” Margo was sharp as a knife.

“The same one.”

“Oh, the plot thickens! I feel magnanimous right now – the holiday spirit and all - and I’ll let you off the hook and give you some time to gather your thoughts in order to tell me correctly this long story. No omissions! But first I need to tell you something. I like what I see. You look different, El. You look happy. And it’s very becoming. You should wear this look more often! But I need to take a shower now. I feel icky after the long flight and the ride here.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Quentin pulled the big Christmas tree from his pickup truck. He carried it to the door. It scratched his face a little, but he loved the smell of resin and green. It was snowing slowly, with big fat snowflakes that clung to his eyelashes and melted on his face. He had a short vision of being nice and warm inside, decorating the tree with Eliot in the light of the fireplace. The whole thing felt very Christmasy and Quentin couldn’t help feeling hopeful. He rang the bell and a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, thinking about seeing the surprise on Eliot’s face. Or just seeing Eliot’s face. Period.

“Hello, Eliot!” he said when Eliot appeared in the light of the open door.

Eliot’s smile was soft. “What’s this? Did you meet Santa on the way here?”

“I thought that if you wanted to feel like Christmas, you should start with a tree. I got this for you from our local Christmas tree farm.”

“That’s nice, Quentin. How much do I owe you?” Quentin felt his face blush with embarrassment.

“It’s a gift.” This was not going as planned. Quentin brought the tree not to sell it and not as payment for medical services. He just wanted to do something nice for Eliot, to make him happy. But how could he explain that without saying too much?

“Then thank you! Let’s bring it inside. How did you manage to get it here with your shoulder?” Eliot looked concerned.

“It’s OK. It’s not bothering me too much anymore.” Quentin looked into his eyes and gave a little smile. “You must have magic hands.” And, judging by Eliot’s slick expression, his mind went _that_ way too. But he really _really_ wanted to know how magical his hands could feel on him.

“Come inside. Margo is here!”

And of course Margo was beautiful beyond words and smart and witty and perfect and she looked at him with undisguised curiosity.

“Quentin _Coldwater_?” She pronounced his name like it was the oddest thing she ever heard.

“Yes.” He didn’t dare mention his middle name. His long estranged mother must have been through a hippy phase when she chose Makepeace as a middle name for her only child.

“You’re the man Eliot saved from the lake? With hypothermia?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Margo smiled indulgently at the _ma’am_ and continued. “You must see the irony here.”

He did, but it didn’t feel funny. He felt his face burning under her scrutiny.

“Bamby, ease up on Q! He’s a friend. He’s made it through a really hard situation. I am so glad I could do my part and helped him when he needed it.”

“I’m going to put the tree in the stand.” Yes, that was the safest thing.

“It’s in the mudroom. Let’s take the tree there for now.” Eliot jumped to help and Quentin’s heart lifted.

In the semi-darkness of the mudroom they put the tree against the wall and Eliot turned to him and took his hands in his.

“Don’t mind Margo. She’s all bark and no bite. She just doesn’t know you yet.” Eliot’s eyes glowed huge and his hands were warm and reassuring.

“I’m sure, Eliot.” And Quentin was not sure at all, but he certainly was going to try his best to win her over. “Go back to your friend. I am going to finish here in a minute.”

Eliot squeezed his hands once more, then let go.

When Eliot left, he let himself slide down to the floor. What a day! But he was here, with Eliot, and he was going to be a part of his Christmas and things will be alright. He turned on the light to get to work and he saw his cowboy hat hanging in a hanger. He had forgotten about it earlier when Josh came to take him home. He looked fondly at the old, well-cared for hat and decided with a sigh that he was who he was and it should be enough and he got to work. He fixed the tree in the stand and while it did cost him some sharp twinges of pain, but it was bearable. He went back to the living room and when he reached the door he couldn’t help overhearing Eliot and Margo talking.

“So you just took him in to watch him overnight? A stranger? He’s cute, but he’s not _that_ cute!”

“I was feeling…” And Eliot made a pause. “Charitable.” And Margo laughed out loud with her crystalline laugh.

Quentin’s heart froze in his chest. Charitable. The word hurt him more than a dagger through his heart. He had thought they had something special. He had thought that maybe he meant something to Eliot. But he was just a charity case. And indeed he was. He had been in need of help and Eliot had offered him that help, which was very generous of him. He couldn’t argue with that. Anything else – was there anything else, really? It was all in his head. He had wished for a beautiful Christmas story and imagined he was living one. Wishes like this were so unhealthy. _You only get hurt when you have high hopes. If you lower your expectations and choose realism, you don’t feel anything._ And not feeling anything was definitely preferable to the dull ache in his chest right now, radiating in his whole body. It was crushed hope and the bitter taste of humiliation, all made worse by the certainty that it had been his fault. He got it all wrong. So wrong. He fought back unsuccessfully a tear – a treacherous self-pity tear – and made up his mind. He didn’t belong here. And he didn’t feel strong enough for goodbyes. He put his hat on and left quietly through the mudroom door.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Eliot, your boy is leaving!” Margo pointed at the window.

“What?” But Eliot heard the truck’s engine as it pulled out the driveway and vanished into the road. He stupidly ran to the mud room to make sure. No Quentin, just the tree already set in its stand, free of the net, perfectly symmetric and smelling pretty.

“What the hell? I baked a pie for him! He didn’t even say goodbye!” He felt confused and hurt and confused again.

“I think he heard us talking.” And Eliot was struck with a moment of clarity. He had hurt Quentin when he made light of their situation, trying to look cool to Margo.

“Margo, I am an idiot.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I really like this boy. I really like Quentin. I don’t know why I tried to deny it. I guess after the whole Mike mess, I didn’t want you to think that I was so stupid to fall blindly for someone I just met. I didn’t even want to admit to myself what was really happening.”

“Then go after him. Get him back! Do I have to push you out the door?”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Going after Quentin was easier said than done when you didn’t have any idea where Quentin lived. So Eliot did the rational thing: he fretted around the living room until he realized he could just call Josh.

Half an hour and several wrong turns later he was swearing at the GPS of his rental car and trying to remember Josh’s exact directions to Quentin’s ranch. He was all tense and sweaty because he was not used to driving at night in the snow or driving too much in general. He was slowly accelerating and decelerating and watching the road carefully through the rhythmic move of the windshield wipers. His heart was pounding somewhere in his throat but who had time for palpitations?

When he finally spotted the Coldwater Ranch sign, half covered in snow, he breathed out in relief. He left his car in the road and walked to the door. The driveway was long but at least the snow had been shoveled out. The house looked dark and when he rang the bell there was no answer. Eliot felt his heart sink. Where was Quentin? Where could he have gone? That cousin he mentioned, where was he? Was he with Quentin? Then he had an epiphany: the stables. He could see the stables behind the house. A path had been made through the snow and he didn’t hesitate to take it.

The door opened with a creak. Inside it was warm and musty and it smelled, well, like a stable. Eliot shook the snowflakes off from his hair and brushed them with his hand off his shoulders and looked around. He found Quentin in a stall tending to a beautiful white horse. He was wearing a leather jacket and his cowboy hat and his gestures were sure and professional, but with a tender note. Eliot’s heart swelled: his cowboy.

“Hi Quentin!” he hesitated.

The horse nickered, startled and Quentin turned with a sudden move to see who it was. He dropped the brush from his hand and made big eyes at Eliot, mouth half open in surprise.

“I hope it’s OK I dropped by.”

Quentin regained his composure. “Eliot.” He acknowledged in a soft voice.

“I came to say I am sorry. I never wanted you to feel like meeting you had been meaningless to me.”

“No need to apologize, Eliot. We’re good. I am so grateful for everything you have done for me.” Quentin had regained his voice and determination. His shields were up and it pained Eliot to see this.

“I don’t want your gratitude, Q.” Eliot was frustrated. “You need to know something about me. How can I put this… Look, I am an idiot.”

“You’re no idiot. You’re the smartest guy I know, _doctor_ Waugh!”

“I’m still an idiot. The truth is I was supposed to spend the holidays here with my boyfriend.” Eliot noticed a flash of jealously pass over Quentin’s face and continued quickly. “Ex-boyfriend. He betrayed my trust badly and I can’t even blame him. I chose to trust him even if I knew he was unreliable. The whole thing left me feeling bitter and empty. Meeting you and getting to know you has been out of this world, different from anything I have known before. When I saw you lying there on the lake shore, covered with a thin layer of snow, I was like struck by lightning, like something I didn’t know I had was violently ripped from my soul. You looked like a beautiful dead but then I saw your chest was moving – you were breathing. I just… felt this enormous relief. Taking you to my house felt like the only option, because I wanted to make sure you were alright. I wanted to be there for you. Then the day I have spent with you turned out been the best day of my life. It has been so long since I felt actually happy with somebody…” Quentin was looking away and there was the sadness on his face that Eliot wanted to erase more than anything. So he went on.

“Feeling so strongly about someone I just met just didn’t fit with my idea of how the world worked. So I tried to deny what I was feeling. To myself and to Margo. But it was the worst lie I have ever said. And, trust me, I have said quite a few lies in my life. Please, give me a chance to prove to you how I truly feel.”

“You don’t have to prove anything. To me, to yourself or anybody.” So Q had a stubborn streak too.

Eliot stepped closer to the stall. To be very honest to himself, the tall horse intimidated him.

“Is this Alice?”

The horse looked him up head to toe and obviously found him lacking.

“Yes.” And Quentin smiled for the first time.

“She’s beautiful.” Well, a dame can be won over with compliments. Maybe it was the same with lady-horses.

“She is.”

“May I touch her?”

“She doesn’t like strangers and she is very protective of me. Better keep your distance Eliot. I can take you to other horses that are gentler and more sociable.”

But Eliot was not listening to him.

“Alice, I know you are important to Q so I want you to know that I won’t hurt him again.” And he caressed lightly Alice’s beautiful mane. To Quentin’s surprise, Alice sighed and allowed it.

“I have acted stupid, but I promise I will make it up to him, if he gives me another chance. What do you think, Alice, will he give me another chance?”

Alice snorted a warm puff of breath and used her head to push Quentin towards Eliot. Quentin stumbled and Eliot caught him in his arms and held him. And suddenly, Quentin hugged him back tightly, burying his face into his chest. He laughed, like in disbelief.

“I can’t argue with her!”

And he just held him closer.

“Q, I…” but Quentin cut him off and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. It was a simple press of warm lips against his mouth at first but when Eliot opened his mouth, the kiss grew passionate and deep and dirty and the world stood still. His cowboy hat fell off but he didn’t any pay attention to it. Eliot held him for dear life and they kissed and kissed and kissed. Then Eliot found himself pushed back by a very determined Quentin and he didn’t resist. For a short guy, he was quick to gain access to Eliot by lowering him down a stack of hay. Eliot laughed at the audacity, but his laugh was breathless and unconvincing. Quentin sat on top of him so he could kiss him thoroughly and Eliot welcomed the weight and the heat of him. _Ride me, cowboy!_ , he thought, but he didn’t say it loud.

Quentin unzipped Eliot’s coat and pulled open the first buttons of his shirt so he could kiss freely his neck and down his chest. His hands went under his shirt and left hot trails with his fingers on his back. Then one of those hands reached under his belt and into his trousers and cupped his butt cheek. It was maddening hot and Eliot was hard and needing already. He needed to cool off before he embarrassed himself and came in his pants like a teenager.

“Q, what are we doing?” Eliot made an effort and sat up and looked into his eyes. Quentin was on his lap, long hair fallen on his face, looking a bit wild and out of breath.

“What I’ve wanted to do since the first time I saw you.” Quentin’s lips were red from kissing and maybe stubble burn and Eliot found that extremely hot. But he needed to make certain.

“Are you sure?”

“Why fight you? Why fight myself? You want me, I want you. You like me, I like you. Maybe it’s that simple. Maybe it’s meant to be. Do we have to find all the answers now?”

“I have found my answer.” Eliot’s voice trembled at little. He looked deeply into Quentin’s big brown eyes, but there was only light there.

“I love you, Eliot.” And at this simple statement Eliot’s eyes filled with tears.

“I love you too.”

And it felt like everything had fallen into place.

Quentin was smiling big, his dimples full on. Eliot caressed his cheeks gently, cupping his face for another kiss. Quentin closed his eyes and his long eyelashes casted delicate shadows on his face, in the yellow light of the stable. Eliot wanted nothing more than to protect the genuine happiness showing on that handsome face. Their kiss was sweet and full of promises.

“El…” Quentin licked his upper lip and Eliot just had to kiss him again. “You have straws in your hair…” and Quentin reached up to shake them off.

“Make-out session in the hay - checked. I can’t believe I went and got myself a genuine cowboy boyfriend. Now there’s only one thing left to know: tell me, Q, do you own cowboy chaps?” and Eliot winked, feeling hopeful. Maybe it was a gay club fantasy cliché, but thinking of Quentin wearing nothing but those riding chaps was a very, VERY sweet thought.

“Yes, but it gets worse.” he gazed at him fondly.

Eliot had to ask. “Worse?”

“I like to wear a bolo tie too.” And Quentin’s big smile lit up his whole face.


End file.
